cancelled plans

Its 10 o’clock Friday night and I’ve one by one cancelled all my plans;

Freestyling with Mookie… sorry man I gotta wake up early.

Colin and Norma… how about you come to my house Sunday?

Pops…sorry dad going out with Mookie.

Jer…using the same ol' tired excuse.

The school years starting in about two weeks and students are beginning to flood back into my neighborhood. My apartment is on a corner lot facing king (the main road in Westdale) from two different windows. Laughter chokes me and crowds on their way to the bar wound me- I desperately want to run down and say hey “hey, can I come along? I’m fun and energetic watch this (adlib some stupid high kick or leg flail)… please like me” I need human contact so bad- I need it more than masturbation- unfortunately the latter ends up being my go to after I pus’ out on Mookie, Colin, pops, Jer and the gang heading to the bar- and the worst part about it is that I analyze it to death instead of picking up the phone and jumping on my bike.

The phone barely rings... and when it does- you guessed it- its Ma! Good Ol’ Ma- just when I thought I couldn’t get any lonelier or removed from the world I get a call from the ma! Don’t get me wrong I love the Ma to death- but when you’re sitting around waiting for interaction and the phone starts vibrating and that ring kicks in and you dive into your pocket only to see those familiar digits- it hurts- it shouldn’t but it hurts!

I know how this rant sounds like a huge contradiction- I cancelled on four friends then sit at home and wine like I have no friends- this is just a slice of the fucked up way my head works. I guess what it really comes down to is that I want a woman- I must, and am so fucking hell bent on the thought that if the chance of me without one is added into the equation I get like this and sit around and mope that I’m mad at the fucking world- when if I were with a woman id be over at mookies rhyming, then partying with Colin and Norma, and out with pops after all in the same night.. just knowing that I had someone at home or out with her friends thinking about me.

It’s even to the point where I question walking to the coffee shop- what should I wear? Who will I meet? What will I say to her? Do I really want a woman or just a piece of ass and then on to the next… then to scare me out of actually trying to get with a girl- I role-play how the sex would go- well before that even I role-play me taking off my shirt and pants and her being disgusted.

Yeah I fuck. I was with this Chinese girl last week… well were on and off and sorta booty callish- though she’s booty-less. I’m an ass man, hell, I love women, small women honestly, and I’ve  noticed myself getting pickier- but I love ass, titties are great, but a nice bum that I could sink my teeth into..mom honestly it’s all I think about- to the point that it’s taking over my thoughts.

So just a refresher to myself for the most part- I really don’t know who I am, what I want, or blahhhhhhh I can’t think straight. Always analyze… analyze… analyze… it’s totally a Debby thing… back to the ma again.

I bought some bread today a Punjab market and tore half the loaf off and walked back to my seat eating it along the way looking in the mirror- I basically finished it by the time I sat down only to get up and open the Ziploc grabbing the other half and shoving it into my face looking at myself in disgust in that same damn mirror.

I think its best that I just sleep the night off!

last night in bogota

It was our last night in Bogota, Colombia and I was craving Mexican food. We just went on a two hour chase to find the post office of all places and they were going to charge us forty dollars to send a few postcards home. So we walked out disgruntled and craving Mexican even more- the thought of getting what I wanted, something tasty and meaty, was my new driving force. So Ry and I started cruising the streets in search of a restaurant.

The night was setting in when we stumbled upon a jam packed street market with everything from artists making hand crafts and puppeteers to toy vendors and cross-dressing street performers.  We stared in amazement at what we had just come across when a beautiful Colombian woman in her early 20’s, with silky brown hair down to her small breasts that were hidden underneath her tight red top held together with thin white laces passed us without acknowledgement, but seemed a little distraught, or lost- so Ryan and I continued on with our pursuit for Mexican. As we walked down the street, the thousands in attendance acted as barricades towards our departure, so instead of walking around, we took our time mingling through the crowd and taking in the atmosphere.

Lucky we did, because all of a sudden, the foxy young miss, was heading right towards us. As we stood there gazing at her, she approached with flyers in her hand. She smiled and asked us if we wanted a coupon for ice skating in Bogota; we flirted with her for a while, but told her we weren’t interested because it was our last night her- and that we were really in search for Mexican food. She told us she knew the perfect spot and would show us the place. Well, now how to you like the looks of that.

So Ryan, the beautiful dark skinned woman and myself ventured on towards food.

The night prior we had gone salsa dancing with another beautiful woman by the name of Rosio at a little hole in the wall discothèque in a dodgy little neighbourhood in Bogota. Rosio and I really hit it off, and I actually shared one of the most intimate times of my life; not during sex, but rather dancing. We embraced each other arm in arm, sauntering across the barren room, alone. The bar twinkling from the warm glow of the candles that leaked from aged wine bottles and with the rawness that sprung forth from the crackling of the record player, left the two of us buried deep within each other’s souls, eyes locked, and to the point of knowing each other’s next move- I was moved to chills.

Since I had found a lady in my life, I decided to let Ryan have the honours with the new pretty young miss.  Along the walk she was very flirty and jovial towards both of us, as she told us about herself and spoke fluently in four languages; English, Spanish, French and Japanese- knowing this, helped take my mind off of her being a whore, because no whore knows four languages and that’s a fact.

So we arrive at the restaurant after a long hike up a cobblestone road, passing the Plaza De Armas where we hung out earlier that day taking pictures and searching for the police museum. We sat down and ordered drinks as she got up and started posing for pictures- bending over and showing off her pouty face that would put any mans marriage in danger. She went behind to talk to one of the waiters, returning later with an oversized sombrero   and a free round of drinks for all of us- I don’t care what she had to do for it. I love this girl.

Ryan and I ordered food, and I left to make a call to Rosio before dinner arrives- I excuse myself and she tells me that she will come and help me find someone with a cell phone. We hit the streets and I tell her about this awesome girl I met the night prior, and about our dancing and the magical night we shared. 

We finally found a convenience store with a woman with a cell phone, and I make a call to Rosio, to no avail. I call a few more times leaving messages, and decide to come back after dinner to make one more.  We returned, and I finally got the taste of Mexico I had been craving- this restaurant was amazing, every bite was packed with such flavour. So I finished eating and ran back to make a call. She once again never picked up the phone, so I bought some cookies from the shop, and returned to the restaurant and finished our drinks.

By this time it was about to leave, so we asked our lovely lady of the evening if she would like to come back to our house and drink some rum before going salsa dancing. She happily accepted and the three of us walked arm in arm in arm down the cobble road back to our hostel.

We got back to our room and cracked the rum, we lied on two beds passing the rum back and forth before she stood up and starting playing with her shirt. “How much”, she sternly said.  “I can’t believe it dude” I said “she is a whore”.  We joking played it off and turned the roll vice versa and asked her how much it would cost to sleep with us. Then she starts unbuttoning her pants and once again sexily says “how much?” “Are you kidding me” I replied, before she dropped to the bed and grabbed hold of Ryan’s cock.

I was sitting on the opposite bed watching this whole ordeal take place for about thirty seconds before I said fuck this “I am getting a part of this action”. I switched beds and grabbed a hold of her as she rotated around to start riding Ryan; she bent over and started sucking my cock. We were both in shock and giddy as hell for this to be happening to us on our last day in Bogota- so we did what any good friends would do, they would fuck the shit out of her for nine hours and go salsa dancing in between.

Well the sex was sex, and as much as I would like to get into detail, I was lost in the moment and much as I can relive it in my head, I cannot go through all the manoeuvres and details- let’s just say she was passed back and forth all night and she loved every minute of it, craving more the second we finished.

One thing I can recall is that she didn’t listen well and gave the worst blowjob I had ever had in my life- you wouldn’t believe the teeth she used, it was like she was peeling a carrot. And try to get her lick your balls; the girl wouldn’t take any constructive criticism at all. Aside from that the night was unbelievable and a lifelong dream been fulfilled that will follow me to the grave.

So back to the night, it was around twelve at night when we decided to go salsa dancing. We got up, pushed all the condoms aside, washed up, and were about to leave, but this young lady wouldn’t put on a shirt.  She stood there, bra on, refusing to put on her shirt, so we came to an understanding and she put on her leather jacket and off we went passing through countless faces in the lobby in our hostel, that for better or not, know what’s going down.

We get to the first bar and walk down the stairs. Ordering three drinks for our crew, we sit down and have a sip before she takes her jacket off, revealing her bra, getting up on the dance floor and starts shaking it. When does this happen honestly, so we jumped right in, dancing to the electronica and making out with her on the dance floor as she sways and moves across the floor appearing drunk to all the wide eyed viewers of this amazing spectacle. When do they ever get a chance to see, two white guys dancing with a topless Colombian chick- if your guess is never, then consider us blessed.

We ditched the bar for a more authentic feel, and found this amazing hot spot brimming with life on the second floor of this average building. We climb the steps as the sound of salsa begins to beat deeper and deeper it is getting hard not to dance- not that we were avoiding it. We slid into the room as eyes gazed our way, especially bringing a topless woman, I am sure not all the attention was on us gringos. The smooth styles of Hector Lavoe, Richie Ray and the Cubana all star band cleared the chairs as everyone in the house was on their feet.

Ryan and I took turns dancing with her and she lit up the room, swinging her naked body to the music, I kept getting approached on the craziness of the ordeal. Colombians were trying to make sense of the night and who she was with, Ryan or I, and if they had a chance to get with her. We laughed it off and just told them she was a gift from god to fulfill both of our needs.

As I sat in the corner, smiling like I never have before, taking in the scene of the hot salsa bar in Colombia, I could not believe what was happening.  Little miss walked over to me, turned over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching, then dropped to her knees, pulling my cock from out of my pants and started giving me a blowjob in the corner of this bar, the size of your average classroom.  And I thought this night just keeps on getting better- that’s it, I can finally die a happy man.

As the club started to settle down around 4 in the morning, we walked down the stairs with a crew of people, all wanting a piece of this action, but unfortunately Ryan and I are greedy Canadians and were not passing up a lifetime opportunity, so we hoarded her for ourselves- stopping at the corner store picking up 2 more packs of condoms to return for more loving. 

I couldn’t wait any longer, so I piggy-backed her to the hostel, throwing her on the bed and ripping off her clothes as if it were the world was going to explode any minute and this is how I going to die- fucking. Ryan burst back into the room and the party continued for another 2 hours of passing, swapping, high fiving, singing and moves I that I didn’t even know I was capable of, until this dream maker showed up in our arms.

The night came to an end as we shared a cookie and lay conqueror like in our twin beds. I let her sleep with Ryan, so I could sprawl out and have a comfortable sleep after such a rewarding and uplifting night. A night that no one could ever take away, even if I was stripped of everything and left locked in a Colombian cell filled with burly, Spanish men- I could relive a life of better times and shelter myself from the pain, knowing I have conquered a lifelong dream so early in my youth.

We all fell asleep, only to wake up at 6 to push her off to work- she, naked and spread out across the bed, laid motionless to our calls. I sleepy and deserving a great rest, fell back asleep, only to wake to her kissing me on the cheek and saying farewell.

She walked out the door the next morning, without even telling us her name. But I knew who she was from the moment I met her.  She was fucking god. And all I have to say is amen.  

in tune with sweetlou

In a country where infants to ajumma’s own either an Ipod, PSP, or a hand phone with mp3 capabilities - why do people still have the same response to the question, “What kind of music do you listen to?”

                               

It’s understood that the question is a little vague, being the battalion of genres, but anything is better than saying ‘everything’!

Hip hop - Perfect that’s an answer. Rock – another!  Funk, soul, jazz, opera, classical, ballads, Cabaña - these are all kosher answers. Country is another,

though - not globally accepted. Even theme songs to television shows and humming in the shower are acceptable - Whatever it may be, elaborate.

It’s a proven fact that Noraebongs outnumber universities, hospitals, and birth control clinics combined - so you would think people would be more finely in tuned to a proper response. (I would like to point out, that this question is definitely not a single poison-apple dilemma strewn about the city of Seoul - but a bubbling cauldron intoxicating the World, by musically resistant hellcats with a grudge to place a kibosh on music amalgamation). 

I don’t know if it’s only music lovers that appreciate this question, or if it’s just people taking the ‘easy route out’ - but by asking people ‘what kind of music they like?’ you are spreading a sound that’s universal.  Music integration at it’s finest. Like your mother always said ‘word of mouth’ is the best way to sell her delicious baked goods. And much like your ‘momma’s cookin’, music is soul food for the ears.

           

If I asked G-d what music he listened to, I’d wager my healthy hogwan salary that his response wouldn’t be ‘everything’. He would sit me down over a Hite, and tell me how the synthesizer in Zeppelin’s “All of my love” gives him the chills.  How Buena Vista Social Club’s ‘Chan Chan’, ‘Pa Mayte’, and ‘Candela’ are perfect cooking songs for a first date.  How James Brown is the quintessential father of funk, flocking a ‘murder’ of artists to peck away at his golden, hot leathered carcass.  How no way in hell, will or could, Kanye West ever come close to seeing-eye to eye (pun intended) to Stevie Wonder’s genius.  Or about the amazing magician of hip hop,/jazz/soul/funk/experimental Madlib - who’s put out countless records, literally countless. Know one has ever counted this high without being distracted - or had their mother call them because she misses them.

A response to this question doesn’t have to be entirely specific.  Aside from the true ‘beat heads’ this question is tossed around, as a form of discovery, into a canal of interests.  Or in the worst case scenario, conversation on its last legs eking for a quantum leap into ‘scoring’ some digits “Oh my gosh, you love the jazz flute too...No way, can I get your number”. Using a group’s genre, or instrument you play are both legit answers: it narrows the gap from the gargantuan of styles hitting the streets, alleys, back-alleys and even way-back-alleys bridging the confusion from “awahhhhh???” to “ahhhhh, that’s cool”. 

Last week I was diggin’ for headphones at ‘The Headphone Shop’ inside Yongsan Digital Complex. When I brought up the question to the owner Ryan, and how much I loathe the response ‘everything’. Ryan’s feelings were just as impassioned “customer’s ask me all the time which headphones are the best?’ and my response is always “What kind of music do you listen to?”

Robert Frost once wrote about a diverging fork in the road and having to choose one path. Well, you are now at this fork and have an important choice – cruise through the easy route and say ‘everything’ - or foot the road less traveled and share your musical knowledge to the humble drifters and passionate souls along the way, who are in search of a thimbleful of music to help their deserted minds flow once again. 

mc with a mic stand

I’m just a MC with a mic stand

Rocking with a hype band

Trying to make a living

Putting money in my right hand

To understand the plight

You gotta survive the fight

Gas up

Spread your wings and enjoy the flight

Turbulence will turn some away

But that’s life, right

And if you never take off

You’ll never know what it’s like

And that’s another opportunity missed

You see,

It’s not about the destination

It’s about the journey

So go see the world

Through your own eyes

Living proof

And not that spoof news

They spew at you to stay aloof

But the real truth

And I can’t lay it to you

Cause you gotta see it with your own two

For it to prove

That there’s gotta be another way

Nothing but gossip, hate and fear

Playing through the air waves all day

Kind of driving me insane

Which is why I turned off my TV six years ago this May-

Now I got time to write rhymes and recite lines

At poetry sessions

Without TV I found my passion

Now I’m progressing

First lesson, turn the TV off because it causes depression

Cause you’re either too thin or too fat

Fashions bullshit saying browns the new black

It’s all wack

Just another scheme to be relieved of your cash

im at a luss

I’m at a luss

I guess trust is hard to come by,

I’ve been spoon fed

An entire bucket of dumb lies,

And each time

My dumb self tries to believe,

As a kid

I used to believe in the birds and bees,

And up until these days

I used to believe in you and me,

But how many times

Can you get shoed?

Before the bee leaves,

Believe me,

I’ve done the math

I even broke out a pad

And jotted down a graph

And tallied up the stats

I signed it with my autograph

With intentions to send it

I started the letter off

“Confused”, in caps lock and indented

The pages ran on

As I reminisced

From our first date

To our last kiss

I know I think too much

And it gets the best of me,

It grabs hold of my soul

And won’t let go of the rest of me,

I’ve never had to deal with trust

I guess its just life testing me,

If there’s a cure for pain

I wish I knew the recipe

So I could drink it down

Like the soup that mama made,

Our bond is thicker

Than a jar of marmalade

Back home in our backyard

Watching Karma play,

Now were on other sides of the world

But it’s really not that far away

I’ve grown a lot on my own

Knowing your there for me,

Supporting my ideas

And living through all my stories,

Watching over my back

Always there to forewarn me,

You’re my guiding light

When my life gets stormy,

I remember back

When I was just a little chap,

You told me not to take your calculator

But I did in fact,

I snuck it in my bag

On my way to school,

You found out the next day

And boy was I the fool, (Oh damn!)

It was the first time

I’d seen you mad,

And seeing you like that

Really made me sad,

I knew that I had let you down

And I made it a point,

From then on

To always hold my ground

I’ve learned that trust is a vital key

And the way to unlock

Another’s heart successfully

Is to communicate openly

Lay your cards on the table

So the only label I hide

Is the one

Covering my navel,

There’s a lot of thing I am

And a lot that I’m not,

I’ve seen a lot of people pretend to have

When they really have not,

So I made it a point to be me the damn start,

Cause, me is all I got,

And when you break the self down

Heart is all you got

And when heart is all you got

Then heart is all you have

That is why we use our heart

To express the good and bad

Remember the Grinch Who Stole Christmas

And the heart he never had

But by the end of the flick

His heart was filled like a bag

Damn, now didn’t that send a message?

To all the little sisters and brethren’s

That’s been pestering

Each other from day one-

This world could learn a lesson

By opening their arms

And putting down all their weapons,

I know that times have been hard

And that we’ve been tested

But it couldn’t do no harm

Were not headed

In the right direction

With each wound we suffer

We all get infected

And if everyone is hurt

Then who’s there to protect us

prelude party taganga

I went canoeing today with this very lovely Swede, Linn- our venture for paradise got crashed into a hard hitting cove, ending us with minor scratches- I explained to her “that this experience has brought us so much closer together:. Great day, tiring, stood up at a baguette shop- over all still a pretty good baguette.

I met two keen Canadian sisters last night at the baguette shop- they came by my house, the first to do that in my six day stay in Taganga, and we talked about travelling, life in Canada and where to visit when I go to Montreal with my mother in three weeks. We all crashed by two- the girls in hammocks- I on mattress.

Tonight I had my first party at my hillside cabana- the house was a hit, but patrons left to get speakers twice. The sun is up and a beautiful Swede lie in my bed. I lied next to her as she clung to the edge. What is it about me that pushes girls away- am I not attractive. I am clueless and feel let down. I need a warm touch- a meaningful embrace- I want to be loved even if for one night.

i used to wake up

I used to wake up next to a beautiful girl in a house I called my own. I paid the bills. I cooked, washed dishes, and threw parties. I danced on couches, entertained and had sex everywhere the mood took me. It’s excruciatingly hard for me, having walked out of that life and into my current situation. Within a short flight I lost a world I created where friends became family. Now friends have become emails; freedom and space now squandered. Sitting at my desk in my bedroom across the hall from my mother’s room- I can feel the empty sheets that lie still upon my bed. I feel them because it pangs me to have to live waking up alone each and every night until I move on with my life. I am lonely.

I've recently made note of all the events I’ve been invited to in the past few weeks that I’ve turned down. Why? Why have I stopped living my life Louis? Is it money?

I think it is!

Are you afraid to go out?

I really don’t know- my mind is blank!

Think damn it- take a second to dig!

Maybe I’m afraid to meet people because I’ll get into another relationship that I’ll have to walk out on- and hurt another person. I am tired of hurting people. But by not going out- I am hurting myself on the only principle that i’m going out looking to get into a relationship. I have to know that you can’t get into another relationship being the situation I am in right now-unless it works and life plays out accordingly. I have to go out and have fun. Everything at home; writing, photos and feeling guilty and leaving mom alone need to end!!!

The only way you are going to have fun and enjoy life is to get out there and play. Don’t let a rainy day stop you. Don’t let money stop you- you can do everything within reason- live within these means. Drink water  or soda or just have A beer- not 4. Eat when you have to eat- don’t be gluttonous.

I think you are letting money put too much of a grip on your life, as well as, your so called passion for writing you are avoiding so dearly. It is this downward spiral that is depressing you.

So how are you going to deal with this issue?

You are going to have to be more active- the worst thing for you to do is stay cooped up inside the house; go to coffee shops, play darts, bball, hike and when people invite you to go out… Go!! This will help kick start your life back in Dundas. As for being alone- you won’t be- you’ll be surrounded by friends and be sharing great times- perhaps you’ll even meet some new people.

One little fact- you haven’t met anyone new since you’ve been back over the past 4 months. And you really don’t contact any of your friends you already have. You’re becoming a loner- living a petty writer’s life of seclusion… and I’m not even writing anymore. Now that all this has come to fruition inside of you and is now laid out on print- there are no more excuses for your lack of motivation to assimilate yourself back into Hamilton life… and not only survive… but thrive.

pour my heart

I pour my heart out hoping that youll listen

I know im the one that left, but now my hearts twitching

I miss all those nights cooking in the kitchen

Switching to the bedroom, kissing, shoulders bitten, breasts glisten

yadda yadda

I know the time

So I compose a rhyme

To show a fine

Line between

Free-styling

And

Written shit

And spitting it

Like it’s legitimate

I’m swinging and hitting it

Every date at the plate

With the ball as your face

Yadda yadda this doesn’t mean shit to me……..

i've decided

I’ve just reached another deciding point in my life, balconied over the brewing Ecuadorian sea. Reading a paperback of Ginsberg, I decided I am going back to school. I don’t know why I’m having these thoughts right now- maybe, it’s because I would love to have my works published one day and read to be absorbed by the people, so they can see my twisted mind and relate to the wickedness of reality that our daily lives are saturated in. And if not for that- my love for writing would not be an ounce thinner than the hairs on homer’s head.  To document a life, that is beautiful in itself. But to look back and reminisce with the loved ones we experienced life with that is a masterpiece. It’s not my fear of forgetting, but, more of a love towards life and appreciation.

Undoubtedly, I will keep my style of prose- but to study the classics of Machiavellian and Voltaire, or the raw grittiness behind Ginsberg’s or Kerouac’s famed generation, will help assist in sculpted structures and further my knowledge on writing styles.

There is no doubt that my structure is flawed. I eke for understanding and fluidity of writing and a well trained mind, all pushing me in the direction of returning to school.    

coke pary in taganga

I freestyled for everyone last night- real good chaps boosting me up and what not john selected different beats and I flowed atop of it all- picking on people in the room. The girl with red toenails that matched her dress; John sweating after walking up 75 stairs; Carlos and his pile of cocaine; and I the host of this merry fiesta- I awoke to a cold shouldered Swede, who in my books isn’t as genuine a person as I once thought her to be- she didn’t offer to clean, no thank you for last night; just “I’m going to the beach”. This morning she pulled a stolen maraca from her bag and last night she told me to roll her a join- very demanding and two-faced to get what she wants. I was fooled to thinking she enjoyed my company- though fooled no more. Her friend Ida showed interest in me last night rubbing my thigh, with her head rest upon my chest- real sweet girl; perhaps we will meet again soon.

i can be...

I can be an architect. A writer; I could learn to be a better businessman or basketball player. I just have to work for it and it will come. The key- don’t give up. If you want to do it… done… already finished. It’s that easy. I just can’t overload myself with too many interests or there is a high risk of error. Start one interest (diet) slowly work on it; thinking about it a majority of the day and when you get those hunger pangs you think wisely. It is in me. In humankind it is capable for us to e great at just about anything as long as we are a)interested b) completely focused/driven through desire or/and education. I could be an architect drawing plans to dwarf Dubai’s  or end up being a garbage man and mastering the roots, studying recycling, learning the infrastructure and starting my own business. Anything we want to do and do well- it’s within our grasp.

dundas to dundurn

Cross legged atop my backgammon case, I sit perched upon an embankment- the Hamilton harbor peppers itself through the windblown trees that lay staked to the earth. Three stretching trains are being prepped pre-departure and the sounds of the rail yard bounce off the hillside. I’m on the ay to an interview, well more so, a job offer, already three interviews in I was called in for the job and am just valuing my time before the work bell clangs. My view is not one that is familiar; and this earth is not custom to my steps. I’ve been desperately trying to break my mould- homebody extraordinaire I am, and to the point where I wish I was more active- that being a chapter I wish to never revisit, instead I am taking no heed in regret or stressing  productivity or posting claim to life changes, but rather living and in doing so fulfilling the prior.

I met a 90 year old woman named Mae who first came to the exact spot where I sat looking out 80 years ago- she reminisced about how the trees were much smaller back then and that she used to wave to the conductors and they would wave back. She even delved into the Dundurn castle and how there were stuffed lions, peacocks and bears within its confines and people could just walk around the property in and out of the buildings. We bid each other farewell as I tried to take myself back in time.

dont blow it

I’m desperate!

I sound desperate!

And fuck I feel it too!

Each girl that gives me an ounce of attention

I prance on like I’ve been locked up for a year.

The thing is it’s not even girls that id generally find attractive, or relationship-py

It’s just I long for connection, the touch, love, yearning-

I need someone to be thinking of me, for me to feel satisfied.

All I think about is sex…

Who am I gonna fuck?

Who can I text?

Is she single?

Maybe I’ll talk to her!

I jump at the first attempt- though nothing is premeditated,

It constantly comes from the dick…..

I think with my fucking dick 100% of the day-

I don’t get work done because of my fucking dick

I can’t even concentrate because of my dick

I wake up in the morning thinking, thinking of fucking…

Porn timeout- back in 10 minutes!

Ahh….

See what I mean-

I can’t even get through a page without my dick feeling left out.

So here I am stuck in a predicament if whether or not I want a relationship-

But fuck trying to get one because I’m too hot out the gate-

My dicks always front row eking to get a better peek of who’s on stage-

And once blow I pretty much lose my gusto and enthusiasm-

Kind of just move onto the next girl on the spot.

I can be so into a girl- hard crushing- blow it- next day-

Bam onto the next one!

But that makes me think, if it didn’t work out what if I didn’t blow it-

Where would I be now in a relationship with that girl I just had thoughts of fucking?

I have to impose a screening process because my mind jumps around way too quickly.

One day I want a girlfriend the next, perhaps even hours later, I just want to be single and fucking.

It’s too damn hard to define what I want because the majority of the girls I meet I don’t see a future, but I see a girl who wants to play- so play I do- maybe I’ll even play a few more games, but soon I’m looking for a new field to play on- this always happens when I move too quickly.

But I think that goes for many- all my relationships that worked out- well, at least lasted longer than a few fucks, relationships where we got to know one another first. I think sex is the instant killer- unless, it’s the opposite where we have sex, I fall in love and the she loses interest. It’s never been mutual for me moving things too quickly.

Basically, what this comes down to is; what do I want? I want to play, go play! If I want a relationship, then work on a relationship- just don’t rush into either with your dick out. Have a well articulated plan- not the ol’ call up for sex, housebound perv, but a nice guy- if you have to… go jerk off and call her after.

Speaking of that, I’m going to take care of that once again.

I am in charge of my destiny-

Don’t blow it!!

what am i missing?

Do you miss Minji?

Some days I do! I think those are my low days- when I’m feeling lonely and just want someone to care for me, maybe just have me on their mind. Though, I would have to say the same over other past ex’s- I dig through a list of faces and evening we’ve share and pick on that. How is this, what I’m missing in my life…? It’s not! It may be at the moment but that’s just me being emotional and irrational and selfish. One bad day doesn’t mean jumping back with an ex on the other side of the world. Unfortunately my answer is no- I mean of course I do, she was a part of my life and legacy of Korea, but she is not really the one I picture my life with, and if I were to/ continue to think she is- I will only be wasting her time too. Yes, she is hurting. And I too, for her. I made the right decision.

Did you?

I think I did. I know my character and I want to travel and be promiscuous and just explore life with no knots.

Is this a good thing?

Is this worth the exchange?

Well, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I know it has its drawbacks- but, until I find someone that is on my life path I don’t feel I should settle. Hell, I sacrifice and it hurts. The highs are soaring- but the lows are deep. I fortunately haven’t had to suffer many lows in my life- which is why this low stings particularly bad.

So what’s the plan?

Well, schools hire in September and March- Ideally I’d like to move to a university job- something with minimal hours and long vacation time. Perhaps a job with room for tutoring and editing.

So you have your mind on teaching?

Yes, Yes I do! It’s my calling for now and it’s something I enjoy dearly. The only question is where.

What are your choices?

Back to Korea obviously- which was unbelievable by the way- but in order to stay sane id have to take a few long vacations to India or throughout South East Asia. My other option is Hong Kong, Taiwan, or Thailand. Ranging in high to low for pay. I must research the benefits to each- but, ideally $$/hour and schedule will seal the deal.

Why did you get with Minji if you knew you were going to leave her?

To be honest I’ve never asked myself that question, because subconsciously I knew I would be leaving but I was selfish to never have brought that question to light. I just knew I was happy having fun and sex with a beautiful, intelligent girl. I’m so easily adaptable to the flow between girls and MOST of life's obstacles (obviously barring this transition) that I never thought about how much she loved me, and how she pictured our lives together, perhaps children and a house. I never thought this.

Would it, or should it have made a difference?

I don’t think it would have- well, it didn’t. But, it should have a lot earlier in the relationship. I was one sided- I never questioned myself, what I expected from this. It should have I guess… excitement, intrigue, and selfishness cast a shadow over my sensitive and caring side.

This is definitely a break through, but it’s up to you to read/re-read this and follow the steps to correct your life. I can only help in spurts- you must live to maintain a consciousness.

Repetitiveness will also help with your memory.

Do you have anything else to add before today’s session is over?

I am beginning to see things a little clearer. It’s up to me to get out and involved- and just follow my heart while being aware of others around myself. Don’t do anything with selfish intentions. Maybe now isn’t the best time to spark a long term relationship- maybe it will be a few years- but be truthful from the start- so you don’t waste anyone’s time. It will be ok. I’m just in a slump and I’ve been thrown a rope to my saviour. All I have to do is pull I in.

diggin me?

Illegitimate

Stay ill but I’m still considerate

Not the type of cat

To lay back and smoke a cigarette

Got weed?

Let me get a hit of it

Oh shit!!

Here come the cops

Better get rid of it

Ahh, it’s just the campus security

Lights and whistles

Really don’t worry me

Any who

I’m in a hurry

The shows early

Mixing curry

With my mushroom tea

Finished off a J

So k, l, m, n, o, p

Ya digging me

Like diamonds from the mother land

My mother took my hand

And made me kick my father’s hand

Oh so much for the inheritance

Off his wife too

Cause the money

We’re not sharing it

Oh that hoe held more gold

Than pirate ships

That lying bitch

Claiming bankruptcy

Was her clients wish

But I won’t snitch

As long as I get rich

Like Kobe Bryant’s bitch

Mixing wife-ins with tag-ins

Toss em in the middle of the ring

Like Bilbo Baggins

Double bag it

Or you’ll have bugs in your hair

That aren’t funny like magic rabbits

At the docs office

Swearing you glad wrapped it

Sure you fat bastard

Ill believe that when pigs fly

At that very second

A blt just whizzed by

They took it as a miracle

And broke out in their lord I’s

Never religious men

It was a site for sore eyes

I wish Jesus was at this party

Turning water to more wine

But he’s upstairs fucking

Two whores that are damn fine

At the same time

I don’t know how this man do it

I take time with my girls

And he just runs through it

If I could learn his tricks

I’m bound to be a shoe in

And I could put more Knicks on my headboard

Than Patrick Ewing

departing korea part two

The time has come once again for me to depart from a world in which I have created and flourished within. 11 months deep and over 2 years on and off; I feel as though I am exceeding baggage. I have milked every exhaustible means on this island and it is time for me to move on before my infatuation and understanding for Korea exceeds its capacity and bursts- formulating an underlying fate that unfortunately affects us foreigners after an extended period of stay in this ultimately dichotic conformist wonderland. It is one thing to come here and teach for a year or three- but we all hit the brick wall at one point or another, but to morph and accept this lifestyle as my own is impossible.

Granted, my lifestyle far exceeds my latter in Canada; owning a motorcycle, retaining a well respected well-paid job, paying rent on an amazing house in one of the biggest cities in the world, and many many more attributes that pay homage to my found love and intrigue within a distant and foreign culture.

I have embraced all I can. I have accepted, explores, experienced, and fought through all I can. Now I am done. 26 days left and vigorously counting- I never thought it would come to this; it’s not like I am not enjoying myself, it’s just that I have lost my passion. I have tried to find it; I’ve driven the entire countryside, rapped and performed poetry on stage, written for magazines and websites, thrown a dozen dinner parties and feel like I’ve searched every inch of this land and now I am complete.

NOW, I AM COMPLETE!

commi haikus

They marched in red drag

“Hault”  beckons from the speaker

“Get on your knees boys”

Stalin and Hitler

Went to Kim Jong Ils and ate

Cream of Sum Young Guy

coconut banana cookies

2 mashed bananas

1 teaspoon vanilla

¼ sweetener

½ cup oil

3 teaspoon coconut milk/ soy

1 cup flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 tspn cinnamon

1 cup rolled oat flakes

1 cup coconut shredded

Preheat 350

Blend banana vanilla

15-20

12 large 24 small

club 500

Trapped underground

Cave-like enclosure

Dugouts beneath walkways

Sunk in spirit and mind

The heartbeat draws mortal zombies into unison

Pounding flesh, raw flesh

Robot, mechanized flesh

I too become entranced

My body enveloped in a coat of swinging limbs

nicolas cottage

Day 2-

Woke nacho up to go canoeing

Canoed to lyle island then it started raining

Pooped on the island

Saw snake skin

Saw ducks with chicks swimming

The rain stopped

Canoed back

Shallow lake hit the rocks

Back for pancakes by Shannon

Ate at kitchen table with everyone

Foosball with nacho

Hudson thank you card fuck up

Chill by the pit with dan

Meaghan and I do shrooms and smoke a j

Go swimming

Sun comes out

Then gang goes swimming to bone island

I don’t have shoes hang out in water tripping out

Imagine head is a rock and birds land on it

Words of wisdom: don’t care so much about the people around you that are listening

I always look to see if people are watching- don’t be so needy!

Tiresome swim back

Shannon swimming out of water said she needs to be about 3 feet lower

Back to land and saw 2 snakes

Thought one was dead and the other was guarding it with a broken hard

Nacho tried to pick it up with a stick and hissed and they both slithered away

Bbq

Time trip out

Mad rush put oil on the veggies

Flame started growing burning burgers

Big laugh uncontrollable

Howls with Rebecca plate in hand

Clean up

Chop wood for the fire and build it

Play football and Frisbee watching the sunset

Come back to chill by fire

Girls on dock/ boys by fire

Break out guitar and bongos

Hear Nicola playing bongos from dock crying and laughing

Pile up to watch stars

Heads overlapping with Shannon

Keep working the fire everyone moves from the heat

Marshmellows on fire

Nicola and I have heart to hear about nate and her past

Go in to play things after another j with dan

Laugh our asses off (game where u have to guess what the other wrote)

Nacho read in spanich voice “a man loses the will to live after waking up next to rosie odonell

Night ends with me on the couch again with my pants on the rocks with a snake on it

Day 3: first to wake and I come to sit at the edge of the dock under a windy haze

Joined by nacho, brad and nate

Went to corner store for footlongs

Took nap

Woke

Tripped out

Pesto and pasta

All chilled in livingroom with guitar and reeding

Stayed up for the sunset

And so it begins!!!!

Ladies light the fire in a rush to keep warm

I like when my body underwater when its raining because then only my head gets wet

Squirming motions of a squid/octopus

Day 3:

Woke up after reading big sur

Peanut butter and shrooms

Frisbee

Odd family wih broken camera

I would have yelled through interaction- but I wanted them to have a true family portrait

Nicolas laugh smacking the rocks, until  an avelanch echoed our way- I had two options

Stay completely still until that damn trembling demon washed me out to shore or embrace the waves churning in my belly, like tilted bottle shifting back and forth, my toes to mouth in constant waves

I lied on the couch, toes missing the heat, but swaying nonetheless, my head rested upon a pillow of footprints and sunsets wanting to singalong- just a note- the motions, waves crashing my body to where each smile is enhanced and im left giddy thinking of smiling- the rain behind the windows- Rebecca tripping over shoes laughs, laughs, laughs- 2 cents in the boat, dock,bed, and change in my pocket

Rain rain rain- I love rainy days

Laughing laughing I climb out of the lake

Laughing laughing I walk to the front of the house through ashy firepit on wet toes

Laughing laughing I peak through treet- girls with turtle in wagon, wet rain, rides around the lawn

Laughing laughing, laughing

Day 4; dockside

4 muskoka chairs in a row

Nacho, Rebecca, missing Shannon, and I

Draped in sweats and towel await the leisure sun hidden behind twisted branches-

Some speckled light breaks through with the sway of wind

Its easy to get lost in a moment

Now on my 4^th day at Nicolas cottage the fluidity of simplicity has limited my wandering thoughts of my life back in town

I’m even left with guilt churning in my stomach- a real sick feeling in my gut

That’s disguised in suit and tie telling me “boy we gotta talk”

But I don’t want to talk so I repress the conversation-

Put a new mask on it and call it a getaway

Drink my beer, smoke joints, eat well, and trip balls on muschrooms until I end up in the bathroom looking under cupboards for a new mark to don-

But its notmy house you see- so I ditch the mask idea  and think about everything that should be on my mind like my grandfather who just passed away and how im dealing with it well

Perhaps too well compared to some, but I understand we all deal with death and grief differently.

I mean I love the guy to death- we shared the same love for life and really when it comes down it it, just loved each others company; computer talk, golf scores,even just grabbing a hotdog. We’d kid each other on how we dressed or ate our food and now hes gone- too fast, it aways is, we never want anyone to go, but I have to try to make peace with the whole of it- I have no choice- but where the pain now stings me is that nana now wakes up each morning to an empty bed, she shops the grocery store for one, shes left in her quiet, empty home, littered with family photos- each one connecting a once joyous memory that slinks down to a memory of loss-

Marve you horrible husband and father-

Which is another though ive kept in hiding over the past few days

My moters attachment and difficulty of coming to terms

Rightfully so- its over her fucking father

I mean… I understand and thankfully don’t know the actual severity of her pain-

Ive recently had though, due to our current situation, how id react to the loss of my mother or father\and  I honestly cant fahom it- not being able to pick up the phone or relive our memories-

No more holidays, dinners, bday celebrations or be safe I love you texts

A knot in my throat tightens now just thinking of it- im sure the same knot that’s still stuck in my mothers throat- and choking her heart!

Ive never lived in buffalo, growing up in Canada- I saw my grandparents a lot, but still no that much in the scheme of our lives and it saddens me this might be a reason ive been able to deal with papa’s death- I rationalize his age, his peaceful passing, his vitality and passion for life, id love for all of us to live forever, but im not a child and must think like an adult-

Papa I love you can you hear me I only want one thing, and that’s for our family to be able to smile once again. I hate that ive been at a cottage for 4 days and can so easily go on with my life. It’s a crime and a prayer and its that balanced mix that’s creating a churning that rings my belly sitting in 1 of the 4 muskoka chairs now next to a sleeping Rebecca wrapped in blanket and covered head to toe in towels. The sun has almost brinked the tree line as a golden haze has left my eyes at half mass. It’s a new day today but all the tomorrows are going to be faced with similar fear that the crime will outweigh my prayers.

chicken and egg

So there’s a chicken and an egg in bed making love one night, when the egg rolled out from under the covers and sat sulked at the edge of the bed.  The chicken unknownst to the eggs reaction, lied back and lit a cigarette and inhaled with satisfaction.  The chicken finally noticing the eggs whereabouts wobbled to see what was wrong. “Whats wrong Eggy”, pecked the chicken “ Why are you so upset baby?”. The egg raised its teary eyes to reply “ Well, I guess we solved that riddle”.

bum song

Its been a long day at work

Now im going to hit the bar

Called up a couple of friends

Now  were going to ditch the car

Parked then sparked a j

Small talk Hey!

How was your day?

Then walked away with nothing much else to say

Just wanna get drunk and play

Listen to funk and sway

Like palm trees

With the lights beaming on me

Im kinda feeling like a zombie

Walking around in this crowd

Packed tight bodies surround me

Inching my way to the bar

Is probably where youll find me

Cause I could sure go for a drink right now

Raise your drinks in the air

Then drink em all down

Head back to the bar for a second round

Then do it again if youre feeling this sound

I can feel the music inside of my body

Golly miss molly

Ive embodied the jolly persona of a goner

4 drinks

5 drinks

6 drinks gone

Gonna hit the dance for to get my mack game on

I start pushing people around

And swinging my arms

I gotta little beer on my shirt

But I still got charm

I cant see too straight

But im searching the place

To find a fine girl

Bring her home and call her my ace

Look her up and down

I wanna eat her like steak

Shes a rare kind of breed

But I love how they taste

So I slide up to her and get right in her face

And lay down a couple of lines

To put her in her place

Hey girl I really want to make you cum

And you smell pretty too,

Want a stick of bubble gum

Lets go back to my place

I really need to get some

And then I reached around down her skirt

And tried to grab her bum…

Slap
I said why'd the hell you do that?
She said that shes a human
And doesn't approve of these rude acts
For real? But I only grabbed your bum
I wanted your attention
And it too loud in this club
Well just because you want me bad
doesn't mean you get my love
Now you're a fucking creep
and you'll never get these humps
What you should have done is say Hi!
Like a normal guy
Asked me aside
grab a drink and talk a while
Maybe even share a dance
and put your hands up on my side
And if the mood was right
We could have went home tonight
But your passed that dude
now you're on a solo ride
and that's too bad too
cause your a pretty cute guy

stew

So I jump ship in Hong Kong, and I make my way over to Korea, and I get on as a teacher at a school over there in the Seoul.

So I tell em that im an instructor and who do you think they give me?
The Dali Lama himself- the 12th son of the Lama
The flowing robes, the grace, bald... striking!

So i'm in class with him and I give him a pencil. He hauls off and writes a passage!
Good writer... the Lama! Deep, into a 10,000 word essay, right off the top of his head.

And you know what the lama says " gunga galunga.... gunga gulunglungaga"

So we finish class! And he's gonna stiff me.

So I say " Hey, Lama! How about a little something, you know, for the effort!

And he says there wont be any money, but when you die, on your death bed you will receive total consciousness!

So I got that going for me! which is nice!

And that is exactly what I am passing onto you for hanukah! Honestly, I think it's better than those bookmarks anyways!

Have a happy Hanukah, and Happy New Year

bucketlist

While riding my bicycle around the streets of Westdale I had an urge to go home and write a bucket list- with wheels and feet in motion I 180’d back to my pad… with a passion that makes my appetite satious I sink my teeth into rough texture and gorge myself to sweet heaven, hell and Springer- quickly I bloat sluggishly about tiresome, wasted, vanquished- a similar affect to weed lows- but tonight I toked a half j and almost as if David drew his slingshot and with mortal precision slayed goliath I too shot down a giant query. I MAKE ALL THE RIGHT DECISIONS WHILE HIGH AND LAZE ABOUT UNPRODUCTIVE AND UNDRIVEN WITH WHAT DAILY LIFE HAS IN STORE- fortunately I was in the zone ad after having turned around, I do once more after realizing that biking 10km every night is something that I set out to do

“I want to start biking 10km every night or as many as I can within reason”

I just drove over my brain terrain until it reached its compartment and stowed itself away- Now after correcting my all too common flaw of talking/writing without action I consider punching my penis while on my bike mind you, for forgetting the key point- living is doing!

I need to start more doing… because that was the reason for the bucket list in the first place… phewww. I could have said that easier but the morning spectator man pulled up to an adjacent house and like the ol’ saying goes “all paper men at smokers coughing blubbery tubs of regret and hate” he too fit that dear old abusive but genuine stereotype. I thought he was going to shoot me while hiding on the opposite side of the car so I ducked below the balconies railing hoping that there wasn’t already that all-ending red dot mapped out across my gracious and thankful neck that wants to nod hello to old friends, shake the no response to a child, and even motorboat an exquisite yet affordable set of hooters- all this flashes like a flash in my eyes from a Nikon f55 slr thinking that I had a 50/50 chance of which direction to slyfully maneuver my body out of the way from bullets harm and that’s not a bet I want to wager on- luckily the tub of man but have put his gun away, wheezing himself back to the driver’s side- never making eyes on me- but I smelt him intention a mile away.

I might sleep outside my house tonight- my house is similar to a sweaty named man sauna- minus the sweaty naked men but it is just as awkward and uncomfortable 

bruce lee

Excuse me
Don’t try to confuse me
I’m Bruce Lee
While you’re just a couple of bruised knees

brock art- not just a sharpie in a bathroom anymore

Do you ride the bus to school?  Or are you one of the students that park in the McDonalds plaza to get out of buying a parking pass? Well however you make your trek to class it is hard to miss the sculptures that compliment Brock’s campus so peacefully.

            Lutz Teutloff,  a long-time native to the Niagara Region has a passion for the arts and a  vision of how “an engaged idealist can bring art to people outside a museum”.  Teutloff’s caring  German heart, for all those that had lost hope, loaned part of his impressive art collection that has donned the campus grounds since 1988.  From ‘The Gate’ at the entrance to ‘The Bullet’ in the middle of Isaac Brock circle all the way to ‘The Animals’  in front of Schmon Tower, you cannot escape the message of nature mixing with art and science.

                        What’s cool about Lutz Teutloff’s collection is that all the pieces are composed in a post-modern era.  For all you junkies that are unfamiliar with this term, it means that each piece can mean whatever you take it to be.  Through research and  minimal guidance I now see the sculpture “The Animals” as  “ a pathway built on our knowledge, our experiences and our responsibility.  Each stone represents something close to us and all together we can cross the path easily, achieving anything we put our mind too”.

            Take the sculpture of the bullet ‘She Wolf’ located in the Isaac Brock circle that the school-bus drives donuts around.  I asked my friend and Spanish classmate Arden Witter what she thought of it. Arden described it as “a mutated bumble bee with 6 legs which is good, a little odd but still good.  I see a distinct symbolism of war between technology and humans.  I see moulded individuals marching to war with bullets on their shoulders.  I see the depreciating cost of life in a world fantasized with war.

                       

            Obviously we are not all going to share the same views. But these pieces aren’t there for us all to agree upon. These sculptures were placed carefully around the campus as giant conversation pieces to create discussion amongst students to further there imagination,

           

In writing this, I want students to be more aware of the art as well as symbolism that can jump out at you, when least expected.  If you don’t have a great imagination or you find yourself staring at a sculpture with a blank face, I would suggest 1 of 2 things.  Either open your mind to the possibilities… or consult a physician for your lack of personality.

            If your interested check out all 9 sculptures campus wide. Find out more information at the office of University communications or www.niagaraart.com, click Brock.

just a night

So I met this girl through her friend. I was hanging out in Hongdae drinking a bottle of wine, excited and loud, a little ripe from the suds. I was feeling great. So my friends and I get to the bar and they start to walk down the staircase, but I hang back along the railing, because I have to finish my bottle. The colourful lights and the youthful flow of this hip university town had my eyes shaking like a Ludacris video. When this pretty Spanish girl walks up and I said something like “would you like some wine? I like your eyes”. We get to talking about our new lives in Korea, when her blonde fashionate friend saunters up, torn stockings Cyndi Lauper “girls just want to have fun” mode. I talk to both of them for a while as we finish the wine. My friends return looking for me, we all introduce everything is beautiful. I end up getting the Spanish girl’s phone number and call her soon. Well nothing ended up ever happening with her, but I continued to run into her friend the fashinista all over Korea. We were very sassy with one another in a sexy playful way- but nothing ever happened or was initiated. 

the alchemist

Each colorful stroke that flows from within Paulo Coelho’s heart, skilfully paints every leaf of his enchanted story The Alchemist. This timeless tale unfolds with a young shepherd who had succumbed to the dreariness of routine; and as the story unravels we witness a genuine portrayal of an individual searching within himself to follow his dream. We all could learn a lot from Santiago, the young shepherd, whose heart guided him with courage to span the globe in search of his personal legend. What is a personal legend you might ask? Read The Alchemist and you will be rewarded with a bouquet of insight that over 20 million readers have already been blessed with.

blazing beats

It’s been a long time in the making

To put a few takes in

Put aside some time

To get it bumping in the basement

An ace

With no erasing

Just filling blank pages

With space that’s amazing

Asian,

Naw... DJ is- I‘m Caucasian

Blazing beats

Cause I can’t blaze the heat I’m craving

Staving off my rage

Each page that I’m defacing

With a plethora of phrases

Like “this one’s for the ages”

This aint a mainstream jam

Man were downstream bathing

Suits off, a few shots, skipping rocks, lazing

Life's great

Couldn’t trace a better fate

Its aces… aces…aces…aces

bike to work

Ride my motorbike to work

But it’s not where I want to be

Got a head full of thoughts

Outlined in chalk

But there dead to me

My jobs not bad-

But it’s not who I am

Teaching screaming Koreans per diem

I want to feed on my freedom

ball game lament

“I need a break- a time out; just a freakin’ second from my day to turn it all off”.

“What the hell are you talking about man?”

“I mean I’m constantly at war with my thoughts. Girlfriend issues; I’m sick of work; I’m thinking of home; confused in my passion; I feel nothing I do will I ever be satisfied with. You know- everything I do for my girlfriend, I think out first. I calculate my action before persecuting- it’s all really mathematical; but in every incident where I put her in the forefront of my thoughts before taking action- I always manage to fuck up. Every fucking time- I fuck up. Take this for example; now it’s pouring outside and I have work in a couple hours. She planned to come over and make me lunch; all sweet and great- but I got work in 2 hours and I got to leave 30 minutes earlier now and catch the bus, cause’ I can’t ride my motorcycle due to the fucking impeccable timing of the downpour. So I say listen sugar “I don’t think today is a good day for lunch… cause I have to leave 30 minutes earlier to get to work cause of the rain and it will take you an hour to get here- leaving no time to cook and eat… and its pouring outside and I don’t want you to get soaked and come all the way to see me- just for 20-30 minutes.” See I was being fucking rational- and you know what? She starts ho-humming about how I’m too damn rational. I don’t even fully recall what her argument was about; something about how she’s got all this meat and veggies and how she’ll have to give it to her roommates now. I don’t know what to say- everything I did I had her with full intention in mind; I didn’t want her to get wet or have to travel across town for such a short stay- No, but I’m the indecent one. I’m the one who shat in her breakfast. So today we get into another tiff at a good ol’ ball game. Minji and I are at the game with her best friend and my friend Daniel, who, let me throw this side-note in first, has a brother now in jail in Tehran because he fought for peace; his 28 year old brother has been locked up for 10 days without a word and his family doesn’t even know which prison he is in; and furthermore a fellow student has just died in jail the day prior. So it is understandable to say he is not of great spirits- but he is a very strong man and has the power of love and such a hate for Muslims in his heart that it fuels him to cope with his brothers reasoning, why he took his anti-Muslim aggression to the streets.  So the four of us are at the game and its now in the 6^th inning; I look over at Daniel and see he’s fading, losing interest- so I ask him if he wants to go home, Ill give him a ride. He does; so I tell the girls that we have to get going, I lie and say we are very tired because I didn’t want to get into detail about his thoughts, which is why I said we are tired. I gave them another beer, wished them a lot of fun, and told my girl I love you (texting her minutes later with the same message, but telling her to call me when the game ends). Not that it matters really but I had free tickets and used them to get Minji and her friend into the game- so when I got the message after I dropped Daniel off that the girls were SO embarrassed; it got me a little upset. Now give me a fucking break- you and your friend are 28 and 29 years old, you are at a free baseball game, with free beer and you are with your best-friend in the world and you got the fucking nerve to say you are embarrassed because we left. It just so happened to be another reason we left, but even if we were tired and that was our excuse- sit and enjoy the goddamn game. But no you decide to text were so embarrassed rather than thanks for the tickets we had a great time; don’t give me this bullshit- you’re not a child anymore; you’re a fucking adult- act like one. Its not like I left you on your own- you’re with your friend. Now I told her- as much as I’d love to have 100% of everything you want in life be the way you will it- unfortunately there are times when I’m gonna do what I want or have to do even against your will. And I would expect the same from you- sometimes we just need to do our things; whether you are too tired or the rain comes unexpectedly- plans change and you cant sit there and fucking wine every time something doesn’t go your way, because that’s life. It would be fucking sweet if every time you pouted “poof” you got your way; well I’m sorry, cause that doesn’t fly with me. I’m not here to disrespect you- nope not at all, and I’m not even trying to be rude or meat-headed by saying ‘Yo baby, these are my rules and you betta stick to them or were gonna have some problems”. Naw, it’s nothing like that; I am here to love you, and everything I do; I will do sweetly and have you in mind. And as for the baseball game- I didn’t ask you to come because I knew you were having a lot of fun with your friend- so instead of bringing the mood down- I wanted you to enjoy your time and stay at the game. I was thinking of her. Every time I think of her it always comes around to bite my fucking ass”.

everything isnt everything

A boy grows up with only good things happening.  When he begins to get a little older he starts to feel guilty because of his good fortune, while so many others around him cannot seem to catch a break.  His guilt builds and builds until he cannot see people for who they are- because he feels so blessed and becomes an eccentric recluse.  Until one day he receives a knock on his door- upon answering it a man with similar great fortune appears and tells him to spread his wealth. Not in the monetary sense, but in the sense where a smile goes a long way.  He teaches the boy about karma and that the good he spreads towards other emanates and causes a chain reaction that can spread throughout the world.  This changes his thoughts and spends time giving and giving himself to foundations and organizations and to anyone who cares to stop and listen- and over a short time he began to see a recognizable change in his community.  So he wanted to have a bigger effect on the world. His name began to spread and he continued to glow and spread love and people came from all over the world to see him and bask in his presence and kindness. Soon companies were interested in having him as a motivational speaker for their employees and were throwing large sums of money at him.  Not that money was his motive, but it soon started flowing in- and we was quickly becoming richer and richer.  With this accumulation of wealth- he began to grow distant from his cause and because people were paying him exorbitant amounts of money- he soon began expecting.  Instead of spreading his good fortune he insisted on charging- now having no time for the people he would pass on the street.  His whole frame of mind switched and people began to notice it.  Slowly he lost his gigs, and his attitude towards people pushed them away.  He became full of himself and since everyone had always come to him for help- he expected it.  In his eyes he had never changed.  Now down on his luck- he began to feel sorry for himself.  This was something that he had never faced before in his life.  He felt sad and that nothing was going his way.  He wasn’t making and money and soon he was depressed to show up to work.  He once again sheltered himself from society an thought and thought.  One day he spotted a little boy careless and carefree to the world- and the boy was walking the streets oblivious to any hatred, or impurities. And as he watched this boy, he began to think back to his childhood and how all these freedoms and how everything was so easy and that nothing really mattered.   If you were hungry there was food, tired a bed, dirty a mom to wash you. And as he got lost in this boy- the boy had stopped, eyeing something on the ground. Picking it up, the man saw that it was just a penny. To him it was just a penny, a penny that he wouldn’t spend the time to pick up. Just a penny! He once had so much money that he would have been losing money to stop to pick up a penny.  But what the little boy did surprised him, he bent down to pick it up and noticing the man in rough shape- walked over to him, smiling, and placed the penny in his hand and said “It’s heads. It’s good luck”.  The little boy bounced along the sidewalk happy-go-lucky. Not knowing the weight of his actions- just doing what he felt was right.